


Fireflies

by Gemmi999



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Masturbation, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmi999/pseuds/Gemmi999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis was a city made for the gluttonous, people who were never satisfied by what life had offered them and so they sought out more, knowing that beyond every bend in the road were <i>possibilities.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies

Waves lapped gently against the base of the city, rhythmic and timelessly. Elizabeth had grown accustom to the beautiful noise during her first nights on Atlantis, when she would restlessly pace the sacred hallways of the ancestors, marveling in all that was spread out before her. Atlantis was a city made for the gluttonous, people who were never satisfied by what life had offered them and so they sought out more, knowing that beyond every bend in the road were _possibilities._

She felt at home in the hallowed walkways, knew that her entire life had been leading towards this moment, this existence. It was lonely, at times. Being in charge meant not allowing others to see her weakness, her frailty. The city demanded far too much strength and honor; it deserved nothing but the finest of her sweat and blood and tears.

Sometimes, she’d lay in the darkness of her room, and listen as the waves lapped against the sides of the city. She’d count the gentle sounds instead of sheep; hoping that after the first hundred--then thousand--waves, she’d be asleep. When that didn’t work, she would skim a hand down her chest and force her body to relax as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. When her hand was limp, and her body sated, she would close her eyes and count the waves once more.

John never featured prominently in her dreams; rather, the idea of him flitted in and out: like the fireflies of her childhood, blinking into existence to tantalize her evenings, and blinking out just as quickly. As a girl she had tried to capture the bugs more then once, keep them in jars that would line the porch. Slowly the lights would fade away, and in the morning her mom would yell about the dead bugs that greeted their visitors. Elizabeth stopped trying to capture the elusive beauty after a few stern lectures, choosing instead to stay on the porch and watch their endless dance.

She hardly ever thought about those quiet days at a rented cabin; her childhood had long since passed, and new romantic ideals had crept into her world. Exploring the deepest regions of the universe; walking on planets unknown and uncharted; fighting to protect the lives of people unaware of the danger.

Through it all, the waves lapped gently against the sides of her home. The moons shone down with grace and dignity; reminding everybody who looked outside that the beauty was an alien beauty; no matter how much they would like to pretend, the ocean wasn’t the Pacific or the Atlantic, and they really were more then a phone call away from all that had once been familiar and good.

Elizabeth sighed as she lay back in her familiar bed; she moaned as her hand trembled lower on her familiar body; she gasped when the slick folds of her flesh parted under her familiar fingertips. One thing had remained the same, traveling from Earth to here; even in this world of the unimagined. Coupled with forbidden images, unspoken wants, crippling desires: but that she could ignore. She had learned, once, to block out her desire. She'd put the good of others ahead of her own selfish wants, and needs, and dreams.

Knowing this, she still catches herself looking for fireflies--on the darkest of nights. She doesn't try to capture them, though. Instead, she watches from afar. She thinks of John, of what they could have been if the journey, the mission, the city hadn't gotten in the way. But, Elizabeth knows, she's gluttonous. It would never have been enough: nothing ever is. So she watches, and waits, and dreams, and touches. And listens to the sounds of the waves, as they brush against the city.

768, 769, 770...


End file.
